Good Girls Go Bad
by Chancity Moore
Summary: A little thing of drabbles involving Connor and Abby. I had my MP3 out, and the songs that came on inspired me to write. So, I suppose they're song fics. I haven't published anything on here before, so these are somewhat short.
1. Good Girls Go Bad

Abby had never been truly shy. She had always spoke her mind, no matter who she was with. It never seemed to cause any problems before, but that was until she had met Connor. Her words seemed to have such an effect on him, whether it be positive or negative. The smallest things could make him grin broadly, but even a slight hint of annoyance made him flinch like a beat puppy. And Abby couldn't stand it.

But as she sat at the bar watching Connor dance, surrounded by random girls, she felt a strong pang of jealousy. They hadn't even gone to the club together. In fact, Sarah, Jenny, and herself had gone for a simple night out, and once they got there, they ran into Danny, Becker and Connor. The six of them sat and had a few beers together, but when the song 'Good Girls Go Bad' came on, Connor kindly pulled himself away from the group to dance. Abby simply watched for a while, and listened as Danny and the others commented.

"Here I am thinking Connor's a shy kid. Look at 'im out there," Danny laughed. Sarah giggled, shaking her head.

"He really has a way with the ladies, doesn't he Abby?" Sarah asked, looking at Abby for a long moment. Abby rolled her eyes, downed the rest of her drink and stood, making her way over to Connor. He was hers, and nobody else would dance with him. Abby was about to make sure of that. She approached, dancing with random people along the way.

"Hey, Abs," Connor said, offering her a grin. His eyes widened in shock as Abby took his hand and placed it on her hip. He fell into it quickly, the pair of them dancing. He could move, she realized, and wondered why he had never offered to take her out dancing before. _Because, you idiot. He's scared you'd say no._ A voice in her head answered. But this was easy; she never would have said no.

"Connor you're fantastic," Abby laughed, spinning. They had earned themselves a spot on the dance floor, and a few people had stepped away to give the pair room. Connor held her close, and she kissed him full on the lips. He pulled back, smirking.

"Thought you were too hot to dance," he muttered in her hair, and she heard the smirk he was wearing.

"What can I say, Con? You make them good girls go bad," she said, her tone teasing. Connor laughed, and the two made their way back to the table.


	2. Hot Mess

Connor held Abby against him as they danced. It was their first time out dancing, and he absolutely adored the way she was able to move to the music. He pulled back to let her dance alone for a time, as he needed a drink. He laughed as she spun around, away from men trying to dance with her. Her dark jeans sat low on her hips, and they went well with her combat boots and black tanktop. It was what she usually wore, but it never failed to make Connor's mouth drop.

At the moment, she was completely tanked, and she was a mess, in a way. He had never seen any woman look so good, and he was almost glad the two had got shit-faced together. She seemed to catch him staring, and she winked, beckoning him back to the dance floor. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and stood, making his way over to her. She had been a problem child, while he had been the grade-A student. It was odd that she would end up with him, when she could have quite easily had Becker.

She pressed her back to his, moving against him, and he smirked as some of the other men turned and walked away, pissed. Abby spun in his arms, reaching up and taking his hat from his head and placing it on her own. That hat became her, and he nodded in consent. She pulled gently on his tie, pulling her closer to him. He laughed, deciding his best bet was to go with it. He let himself gape for a moment as she stepped up onto a table, much to the amusement of its inhabitants. It amused him greatly, too, and she was offered another shot, which she gladly accepted and threw back.

After a time, Connor helped her down off the table and escorted her out the door. She giggled, and wrapped her arms around him. The summer air blew nicely against him, sweeping his hair back. That usually didn't happen, since it was he who usually wore his hat. But he wasn't about to take his hat from Abby. He attempted to, an she offered him a very pouty look. She looked so fantastic with that look, Connor couldn't help but hand her back the fedora. It had been a wonderful night, and he was glad he had taken her out.

"Connor?"

"Hm?" "I think I love you," she said, grinning up at him.

"We'll see what you think tomorrow, Abs," he whispered, feeling a bit put out by his own answer. He knew she would never have said that if she were sober, and it somewhat broke his heart to deny telling her how he truly felt. But, chances were she wouldn't remember this in the morning anyway.


	3. Fourth Drink Instinct

Abby frowned as she sat down at the bar. She didn't deserve to be in a place like this. It was dingy, and filled to the brim with testosterone. But she didn't want to go home. To return to her empty flat. Connor had left, and she wasn't sure why. One day she came home and he was simply gone. She wished he'd have said goodbye, but he hadn't. And now here she was, sitting there, ordering her first drink. She looked good, as she always did, and a man slid onto the stool next to her. She offered him a sad smile, and he smiled back, unaware of the pain she hid.

The night passed quickly, and before she knew it, she was feeling the effects of the alcohol. She was getting a bit giggly, and things started to slip in and out of focus. She didn't like this feeling, but when she looked at the man beside her, she saw Connor, smiling back at her. And it was that that drove her to buy another round. The bartender, a portly man with a kind face, placed the drink in front of her, frowning a bit.

"Girly, girly, you're at your best when you're sober," he said.

"No, no," she slurred, shaking her head, "Just one more." But one turned into three, four. And before she knew what was happening, the gentlemen was escorting her through the door. As they walked, his hands wandered a bit, and soon they were at the flat, his mouth and hands ravishing her.

"This is only a one night stand, girly," he murmured. Abby nodded, not understanding what he said. They reached her flat in no time, and he made quick work of her clothes, tossing her panties aside. The last thing she could recall was her falling asleep after whispering, "Goodnight, Connor."

When she woke up the next morning, she found her bed empty. She had had a small hope that he would stay, that he would be there when she awoke. But that hope was only there because she had seen the man she wanted, she had seen Connor in the face of a stranger. She couldn't bring the man's face to her mind, and she frowned as her head throbbed as an after-effect of the alcohol. She rose slowly, slipping on a teeshirt and padding around her apartment, making hot tea and taking a couple Advil.

What had made her think he would stay? What made her believe that he couldn't find the door when he had found the bed so easily? Because she still clung to the hope that all men were like Connor. That all men would treat her with respect and care what she felt and thought. But she was wrong. She bowed her head into her hands and sobbed, wishing that he would come back, at least for a day. But no, he was gone, and he wasn't coming back. She knew this, and she finally let go of the hope that he would come back to her. He was gone.

She looked up, choking back another sob as the front door opened. In walked Connor, soaked by rain, his dark hair clinging to his forehead as if it were a lifeline. Her eyes lit up with a small hope, asking him silently if he was back to stay. He looked away, frowning, and stepped out of the doorway. A girl followed behind him, and Abby sobbed once more. He was only here to get some of his stuff, she knew. He walked, picking up a box that had been under his bed.

"Connor, hurry up. The taxi's waiting!" the girl called, her voice slightly panicked.

"Hold on a minute, Kate! Your fiance can wait! Just be glad I held onto all this junk for such a long time. I'm your brother, not your storage shed," and with that, the girl took the box and left, leaving Connor behind. He looked at Abby for a long moment, and brought his eyes to the floor.

"Connor…"

"Abby, I'm sorry. She found herself in a spot. Poor girl was knocked up. I had to go help her, Abs. She's the only family I've got left."

But Abby didn't care. She wasn't alone anymore. Connor was back after three months. She wouldn't have to feel the fourth drink instinct any more.


	4. Like Toy Sodliers

**Author's Note: Hi! Chapter five all in one day! Well, I forgot to give a disclaimer...sooo...I do not own Primeval or any of it's characters. They belonf to their respective owners. I don't own the songs either.**

**Chapter 1- Good Girls Go Bad- Cobra Starship**

**Chapter 2- Hot Mess- Cobra Starship**

**Chapter 3- Fourth Drink Instinct- Cute Is What We Aim For**

**Chapter Four- Like Toy Soldiers- Eminem**

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He was her best friend. She had never intended for him to get killed. Why would she want to destroy something she helped build? But the second Helen dragged Connor James Temple into the whole thing, Abby simply lost it. She couldn't stand to hear someone down-talk the man who literally saved her life. But Helen brought Connor into it, and Abby lost control, all her composure blew away as she lunged at Helen. In the short time that it took her to get to Helen, the gun the older woman was holding went off, and Abby hadn't taken the time to look to see who of her team had been hit. She hit Helen with as much force as she could, but her name from behind her yanked her out of her fury. She spun around, and what she saw made her cry. Connor was crumpled on the ground, hand covering a bloody wound in his stomach. He was the one who had been there for her.

"Connor!" Abby rushed forward, searching franticly for something to bind his wound with. She found nothing, so she simply pressed her palm into it. "Connor, you can't. Don't leave me," she pleaded.

"Abby…I love you." And with that the man who she owed her life to went limp. She sobbed, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. She kissed him once, and when she turned to glance at Helen, she was gone. Abby screamed, and the team came rushing.

"Abby, what happened?" Cutter asked, frantic.

"Helen…Helen shot him!" she sobbed.

"Are you sure? The two of you have been arguing a lot," Stephen muttered.

"Go to hell, Hart! He's dead. He's gone! Why would I destroy something I helped build? I never intended for him to get killed…He's gone," she whispered the same words over and over again, never wanting to let go of the man who had died in her arms.

The funeral went by quickly. Only the team showed up, and even after the funeral Abby sat by the grave, hugging her knees to her chest. She knew what she would do. She would simply tell them all she loved them, simply say 'Fuck it all' and walk away. It was the only thing she could do. She couldn't stand Connor being dead. If she hadn't lost her temple, Connor would still be alive. Helen never would have been giving the opportunity to kill him. It was an awful thing for her to have done, to take Helen's bait. The woman's words still echoed in her head.

_"Face it, Abby. You wouldn't miss him. You've always preferred Stephen, but you can't have them both. You have to pick. Poor Connor. He adores you, you know. I can see it when he looks at you. Poor kid. He's once again a kicked puppy. All because of…you."_

Abby screamed and lashed out with her fist, slamming it hard into the surface of Connor's grave stone. She flinched, glanced down at the bloody knuckles and then immediately throwing her arms around the cold, gray grave. She would pack her things the next day, and travel by bus as far as she could go. There was nothing for her here. Not anymore. She ran her fingers over the fabric on her fedora, and wondered how on earth she was going to explain in to Rex, Sid, and Nancy. She placed a hand on the stomach where a small bulge was appearing, and ran her fingers over it. She wouldn't be without him for too long.

She knew the child she was carrying would look and act exactly as its father, no matter what gender. The thought cheered her a bit.

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**Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcomed, and so is helpful criticism. I approve and welcome both, so don't be shy!**


	5. Photograph

**Author's Note: I do not own Primeval or any of its characters. They belong to its respectful owners. Song is Photograph by Nickelback.**

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Connor ran his fingers over the shoe box that was in his hands. He removed the lid slowly. He took out the photograph that was on the top. He handed it to the 13 year old girl next to him, smiling sadly. She looked up at him, brown eyes asking thousands of questions.

"Look at this photograph, Grayson. That's me and your mum. What the hell is on Danny's head? Anyhow, this was the team. Me, your mum, Becker, Sarah, Jenny and Danny," he grinned, shaking his head a bit.

"What's this, dad?" Grayson asked, holding up another photograph.

"This is where I grew up. Second floor's not for sneaking out," he warned.

"You snuck out?" the girl asked, eyes wide at the thought of her father sneaking out.

"All the time. This is where I went to school," he said, handing her a photo of a large building. He watched his daughter's face as memories flashed before his eyes. Every memory of staring out the back door, hoping he would somehow manage to find away to ditch the small town and move somewhere far away. He took out the rest of the pictures, handing them to the girl beside him. A picture of Abby in the kitchen of the house they were in, standing by the front door.

He had so many memories of walking out that door, far too many. Fights between he and Abby had been frequent those days, and each time he ended up walking out. Only to receive a call from her three days later asking if he'd come back. He always did. He found a picture of Tom, a picture he'd been looking for. Tom was sitting in a chair, upside down, sipping a slushie. They had had theories that it wouldn't give them brainfreezes.

"Your mum and I, we used to listen to the radio. She would sing to every song she knew. I think sometimes she wanted to know what it was like to sing to more than just the steering wheel," he said softly. Grayson held up a picture of a girl.

"Who's she?"

"She's the first girl I kissed. God, I was so nervous that I almost missed," Connor chuckled. Grayson laughed.

"That's so you, dad. Where is she now?"

"Dunno. She's had a couple of kids since then, I imagine."

If he could relive those days, he probably would have. But there would always be the same things that would never change. All his memories of staring out the back door, all the photo's that were scattered on his bedroom floor…they would never change, and they would always be there.

"You really loved her, didn't you? Mom?"

"Yeah, Gray. I did. She was everything I could have wanted. You know, you act just like her sometimes. She used to give me the same look as you do when I simply ramble. She was perfect."

"Do you ever miss her?"

"All the time. Today would have been her birthday," he said, smiling a bit. It had been thirteen years since Abigail Sarah Temple had died in child birth, and in her absence she left Connor with the best thing that had ever happened to him. Grayson Emille Temple looked just like her father. Dark hair, dark eyes, with a tendency to be a bit dorky. But she dressed and acted just like her mother. At the moment, she was wearing a black tanktop, blue jeans, boots, and fingerless gloves. The perfect combination between mother and father.

Connor missed her, every day of his life he thought about her. He had chosen not to get remarried, and he didn't even date anymore. He knew Abby would have wanted him to move on with his life, but he didn't. He couldn't. He ran his hand over the photograph at the bottom of the box; the one that was never moved. Abby sitting on the floor with a baby dire wolf that had come through an anomaly. She had adored the pup, but in time they had to give him back to his world. It was going to be so hard, but it was time to say it.

Goodbye.

And with that, Connor Temple took the photographs, set them in their rightful place, put the lid on the box, and set it in his closet, closing his eyes and letting a small tear run down his face. Jack was coming over that day, and the two would sit and reminisce on Abby. Of the girl who had saved both their lives.

"Daddy, Uncle Jack is here!"

Yes, it was time to say it.

Goodbye.

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**Well! That one was a bit longer. A bit sad, but it had a somewhat happy ending, I think. Thanks to Tay-21 and duchessfaleen for the reviews! It made me smile and encouraged me to write more! Reviews are welcome, and loved, so don't be shy to offer some tips. Love all, and I'll try to get another couple up.**

**-Melanie-**


	6. Concrete Angel

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Song is Concrete Angel by Martina McBride, Primeval and its respected characters belong to Impossible pictures.**

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She couldn't stand it anymore. Even at the young age of ten she knew it was wrong, but she'd never tell. No, momma was the only person she had anymore, aside from the nice boy who walked with her to school and sat with her by the swings. She had first thought he was a bit…well, odd. Nobody else seemed to noticed her existed, but she saw him everyday. It was sweet, how he seemed to be there every time things got…bad. He was quirky, too. He always has on a funny hat and gloves with no fingers.

She remembered asking him what the point in having gloves without fingers was. He had merely smiled and shrugged.

His name was Connor, and Abby had begun to wonder why she never saw him in class. She asked once, and he had just said quite simply that he was her Angel and he loved her. She was so stunned that by the time she managed to say something, he was gone. He had dark hair, and a crooked smile. His eyes were as dark as Abby was fair. While she had pained, blue eyes, he had dark, calming ones.

But as time progressed, the hits kept coming, and there wasn't such a long healing period. Abby didn't know what it was that made her momma so mad, why she was such a horrible daughter. Why daddy had left. Her only highlight was Connor being in the apartment window that was only a few feet away from Abby's bedroom window. He listened when she talked, when she cried. No matter what she was doing, he would listen. She told him of her dreams to rise above their world and into Heaven, where everyone would be nice to her. Nobody seemed nice to her anymore. All she did was stand perfectly still through the wind and the rain, hard as a stone, in a world that she couldn't rise above.

But as time went on, the bruises got worse. The teacher began asking more questions. And Abby had to lie to the teacher each time, saying she fell down the stairs, saying part of the carpet was turned up and her mom had yet to call a carpenter. She didn't think anyone believed her. She came home one day to find momma in a rage. She had received a call during the day from a concerned nurse who was concerned for young Abby's safety. Mrs. Maitland took the rage out on ten year old Abby. This time, it didn't stop.

Blow after blow, Abby was forced continuously down into the floor, shoulder cracking from the force of the heavier woman on top of her, striking her over and over. No release, no way to fight it. Abby heard her arm crack, pain shot through her limb, and she screamed, the heartbreaking sound of a little girl crying for help. This only triggered the blows to come harder, and faster. It was only minutes later when her knee shattered, breaking part of the wooden floor beneath her. She was yanked to her feet and struck once more when she couldn't support herself. So much pain. For the longest time that's all she felt was pain. Severe pain, pain that made her want to die. And all of a sudden, it stopped. Nothing, no more pain. Nothing at all. No pain, she could bend her leg and move her arm.

And then things changed. She was outside her house, lights flashing and people , some crying, some looking horrified. And there, amongst all the adults, was Connor. Eyes at the house as her mother was led outside by the police. He turned around, saw her, and smiled. Everything that was in his immediate area was somewhat colored in a yellow light, and she found the same could be said about her.

He frowned, then walked away, right into the crowd and disappeared. Abby didn't see him for three days. The next time she saw him was at her funeral. She didn't go close, but when she turned to walk away, she saw him. He was near the back, hat off in honor. When he saw her, he replaced the hat, smiling gently and stepping forward, taking her hand in his. When people left, he led her forward, pointing at a gravestone that read

_Connor Evan Temple._

_Yet another young soul lost to the rage of an unloving parent._

_Rest In Peace, Connor._

He then led her just one lot over, and pointed to a grave that had a lovely marble angel on the top of It. There, inscribed in beautiful letters were the words

_Abigail Jane Maitland._

_Wonderful child and student_

_Loved._

_Missed._

_A concrete angel that's finally risen above._

And with that he led her to the light, and on the other side she saw children their age and younger, and there was never pain ever again.

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**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update! Internet had a bit of a mental breakdown, and I was uninspired for a bit there. This one was sad, but, I thought it fit the song. We all suspect Abby was abused, and in the video for this song the girl was blonde and the boy had brown hair.**

**On the plus side, I was in Wal-Mart today in jeans, a black shirt, converse, and fingerless gloves. As it happened, I was buying a fedora, and after I put it on this girl was standing right behind me. Then she asked me if I liked Primeval, because I was dressed like Connor Temple. :)**

**Reveiws are love, so don't be shy.  
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